


Psychopathia Sexualis

by Rammstein6669



Category: The Alienist (TV), The Alienist - Caleb Carr
Genre: 40 year old virgin IM SCREAMING, Anal Sex, Angst, Blowjobs, Both book and TV cannon, Bottom! Laszlo, But obvs that wasn’t really a thing, First Time, Fucking to accelerate the grieving process, Gay Sex, Grief, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, John is good and wholesome, Laszlo gets the English fucked out of him, Laszlo is basically an incel LMAOOO, Laszlo is curious as always, Laszlo is hung, M/M, Mentions of Alcohol Abuse, Ok so I think Laszlo is more Demi than Bi, Repression, Self-Esteem Issues, Smut can have a little story, The Alienist - Freeform, Vulnerability, mentions of self harm, sorry i don’t make the rules, spoilers for the first season
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-08
Updated: 2020-08-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:15:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25776478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rammstein6669/pseuds/Rammstein6669
Summary: “Do you mean to say that you’re....that you have...” he paused again, desperately searching for words. “That you have never?”Laslzo, who had since turned away with shame, took a deep breath before speaking.“It is frankly none of your business, John.”
Relationships: Laszlo Kreizler/John Schuyler Moore
Comments: 13
Kudos: 162





	Psychopathia Sexualis

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so this was initially going to be literally just PWP but then I accidentally wrote some plot. 
> 
> There are so many good dynamics that could be written about in regards to this show, but I absolutely cannot get enough of inexperienced Laszlo. It’s 100% cannon in the show (he’s so awkward with Mary and Ms. Williams I’m), and I adore it. I feel like he’s def Demi and like super socially inept and I’m here for it. 
> 
> As always, not proofread or beta’d by anyone else, so be warned. 
> 
> PLEASE ENJOY!!!

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The moment John met Laszlo, he knew he was going to taint his virtue, his immaculate and untouchable collectedness. It had began in college, back in the days of their mutual enjoyment of youth, although they had had very different definitions of it. The day always stood out in John’s mind, even despite the fact that it had occurred years ago. 

“Laszlo!” He had began, his cheeks reddened by many drinks combined with the heat in the establishment. “I know of a woman, astoundingly beautiful, and she is looking for a suitor. I can arrange for you two to meet, I’m sure you—“

“No thank you, John.”

“But Laszlo, you two would be lovely together!” John had protested, brow furrowed with confusion. “I assure you she is very smart.”

“I am perfectly capable of finding my own partner, should the desire arise.” Laszlo responded firmly, his demeanor as impenetrable as always even despite the few drinks he had consumed. 

And with that the conversation was over. John knew there was no point in arguing with Laszlo, that bullheaded bastard, so he had simply ordered another drink and continued onto another topic. However, he could have sworn that he saw the other’s cheeks color pink, even through his drunken stupor. 

It didn’t come up again until years later, years which had changed them. Years in which Laszlo had been successful, opened the institute and built a name for himself in the scientific world. Years in which John had lost the woman he loved to another man, in which he was ousted from his own family. 

And so, when John approached Laszlo, mere weeks after Julia had left him, the subject had returned. 

“You’re coming with me.” John stated firmly, glaring down at the man who sat motionlessly at his desk. 

“I am not, John.” A sharp response. 

“Laslzo, in the name of all that is holy, have some fun!” John rolled his eyes with annoyance at the other’s denial. “You won’t accompany your old friend to a casual burlesque? After all of the dreadful operas I’ve been forced to sit through?”

“You have never been forced to attend.” Laszlo retorted as he adjusted his glasses, not even looking up from the book he was reading. 

“For god sakes Kreizler, just come with me.” John responded with force, sighing heavily before he spoke. “There are some lovely women to meet after, and it would do you good to loosen up for a night! To have some fun!”

John reached down and placed a hand on the other’s shoulder, unaware that he had grabbed the bad one. That motion, that small, half conscious action, set Laszlo off. 

“My god, John!” Laszlo suddenly shot up from his chair, violently shoving the other’s hand off of him. “I have no desire to accompany you to the seedy, base of society establishments you so often frequent! I am frankly repulsed by the idea! I do not care to have my first time soiled by monetary transactions and filthy acts of rushed pleasure!” 

John immediately opened his mouth to respond, but he found no words. Only after a long moment, after the other’s speech finally processed and registered, did he begin to speak. 

“Laszlo...” he started, mouth hanging open with shock, not even concerned by the insults the other had thrown at him. “Do you mean to say that you’re....that you have...” he paused again, desperately searching for words. “That you have never?”

Laslzo, who had since turned away with shame, took a deep breath before speaking. 

“It is frankly none of your business, John.” He responded softly, his posture uncharacteristically deflated. 

“If I had known, I would never have badgered you so much—“

“Please drop the subject.” Laszlo interrupted him, bracing his good hand on the large windowsill in his study. “I do not wish to discuss this here, nor with you.” 

“Laszlo, there is no reason to be ashamed of it, it’s quite—“

“John!” The doctor yelled in an uncharacteristic outburst of emotion, turning abruptly to stare at the other. “If you cannot refrain from bringing it up I will then request that you leave.” 

And so, John had dropped it. He had dropped it for years, pushed it to the back of his mind but never totally forgotten. He had thought briefly of it when Laszlo had spoken of his love for Mary and the happiness it caused, brief as it was. 

But that was months ago. And within those months, John had been observant. He watched silently as Laszlo continued his work and research despite the obvious emptiness within him. He worked harder than he ever had before, exhausting himself in order to bury the loss he felt at the death of Japheth Dury. John could see how Mary’s absence ate away at him endlessly, Kreizler’s saddened eyes constantly surrounded by dark circles. He ignored everyone’s efforts to socialize, instead choosing to lock himself away at the institute. John worried for his health and sanity, never forgetting the time in which Laszlo had answered the door with blood dripping heavily from his damaged arm. And it was precisely this that led John to where he was at that very moment....standing outside 283 East 17th street. 

John didn’t know exactly what he was doing there. He had no messages to pass along, nothing specific to discuss. All he knew was he was worried. Worried about his colleague, his friend. He took a deep breath and knocked on the door. After a brief moment, it opened. 

“Oh, Mr. Moore! How glad I am to see you.”

“Cyrus!” John responded with excitement, only to pause when he saw the expression on the other’s face. “Is everything alright?”

The larger man’s expression was one of exhaustion, the lines of his aging face more prominent than John had ever noticed before. His shirt was wrinkled and his vest was flaring open, unbuttoned. He looked positively haggard. 

“Well...” Cyrus began, only to pause to exhale a heavy sigh. “The doctor hasn’t exactly been easy to handle lately.”

Cyrus glanced behind himself, making sure nobody was in earshot before he spoke out again.

“He’s trying his best to hide it...but he’s not doing well.” Cyrus paused for a moment, looking at the ground as he formulated his next sentence. “I think all the grief and pain is finally catching up with him.”

They looked at one another, John’s expression one of surprise while Cyrus looked guilty—guilty that he had exposed the doctor despite his very obvious efforts to keep his problems to himself. 

“Me and Stevie have been trying so hard to help him. Making food, keeping the place clean...” he paused again, obviously hurting himself. “But we just _can’t_ fill the gap Mary left.”

Cyrus had a rare emotion to his tone.  
In most cases he kept himself very detached, perhaps as a safety mechanism for his own good. However, John could tell how heavily this was affecting him. 

“I pray that you can help Mr. Moore.” Cyrus spoke up again, his voice now more controlled. “I’m afraid I don’t know what else to do.”

“I’ll try my best, Cyrus.” John spoke, nodding kindly to the larger man as he passed him in the doorway. 

John could tell something was awry the moment he entered the premise. A large majority of the lights were off, giving the, normally well lit space a dark ambiance. Despite the lack of light he could still make out a fine layer of dust over the bookshelves and cabinets, very unlike how the house had been in the past. He walked cautiously through the living quarters, unsure of what he was getting himself into. He made his way into the social room, freezing when he finally saw the other. 

Kreizler sat slumped over the piano, obviously asleep. He wore nothing but an undershirt and slacks, extremely uncharacteristic for him. John could hear him mumbling quietly, the words not distinguishable due to how his head was buried in his arms. He twitched on occasion, shaking his head in accordance with other micro movements. Moore listened as his vocalizations became increasingly loud, the tone desperate and nervous. He sounded terrified, and John simply couldn’t bear it anymore. He slowly approached, reaching out to gently wake him. 

“Laszlo...” he spoke softly, trying his best not to startle the other. However, his efforts were futile. 

Laszlo jumped up with a gasp, his eyes wide with terror. He breathed heavily as he stared at the other, and it seemed to take him a moment to realize where he was. 

“John...” he spoke lowly, his voice rough and tired. “What are you doing here unannounced? Did Cyrus let you in?” 

“Good to see you too, Laszlo.” John huffed, put off by the other’s harsh questioning. 

He watched as the other hurriedly buttoned up his shirt, obviously embarrassed by his debauched state. He made an attempt to quickly sort his chaotic hair, although it didn’t do much good. He looked as though he hadn’t shaved in days, his cheeks and neck covered in erratic stubble. His eyes were surrounded by dark circles of fatigue. 

“You needn’t slave over appearances for me, Laszlo.” John spoke with a sigh. His friend had seen him in _much_ worse states after all. 

“Yes, well _some_ of us have professional appearances to uphold.” Laszlo snapped back. 

John hadn’t seen the other this aggressive since the middle of the Dury case when it appeared as though they were at a dead end. So it was obvious that what he was going through was seriously affecting him.

“Laszlo, I did not come to argue with you.” John spoke calmly, staring wide eyed at the other. “I simply came to check in on you. And judging by your appearance and attitude, you are not doing very well.”

The shorter man looked back with slumped shoulders, uncharacteristically silent. John could tell he was desperately searching for words, but nothing came to him. He was completely defeated. 

“You _are_ allowed to grieve.” John spoke with a quiet voice, his features soft. He wrang his hands uncomfortably as he continued. “I know you and Sarah perceive me as a sort of dullard, but I have dealt with my fair share of grief as well, Laszlo. I know what it does to a man.”

The doctor looked on silently, his expression displaying the torrent of emotions that were washing over him. His bad arm sat cradled in his lap, and he clutched it in a subconsciously protective manner. 

“I will not force you to talk to me.” John continued, very aware of how reserved the other was. “But I am here should you decide to...if you need somebody to relate to.”

“I...” Laszlo finally began to speak after a long pause. “I don’t know what to do, John.”

The taller man’s heart ached at the sound of the other’s utterly broken voice. He sounded so fragile, so different. 

“I have never, in my life, felt an emptiness like this.” He continued, tears already threatening to break free. “Not even when my father pushed me down that flight of stairs.”

John froze for a moment, his face contorting into an expression of horrified shock. Laszlo had rarely ever mentioned his childhood to him, never mind specific details. He had his assumptions and guesses, especially after his conversation with Sarah during the Dury case. However, he never could have imagined the severity of it. 

“I see no point in continuing.” Laszlo spoke, pulling John out of his thoughts suddenly. 

“Eventually your grief will subside.” John responded, eyes downcast. “It will never fully disappear, but it _will_ get better.” 

The other continued to stare aimlessly at the floor, shoulders hunched. John knew he was listening despite his silence. 

“Eventually you will be able to move on.” He continued, voice soft. “Some day you will meet another woman, somebody who can help you begin to heal.”

Laszlo laughed at that...bitingly. He shook his head in a mixture of frustration and dismay. 

“You don’t understand, John.” He spoke softly, now sounding defeated. “There will never be another.” 

“I know you cannot fathom it now, Laszlo, but eventually you will be ready.” John answered, trying to clarify his point. “Although there is certainly no need to rush.”

Laszlo finally glanced back up at him with tired eyes, expression exhausted. “You’re misunderstanding me.” He voiced. 

“Then explain.”

Laszlo looked up at John with surprise, obviously not expecting that. He had anticipated that the taller man would try to continue to to debate with him, continue to attempt to prove his point. 

“I can’t, John.” Laszlo answered dully. 

“Laszlo Kreizler, with the ability to craft sentences as you do, I’m sure you can elaborate.” John answered with a small smile. 

“No.” Laszlo responded with a heavy sigh, shaking his head once more. “I _cannot_ tell you...nor anyone else for that matter.”

“You know you can tell me anything.” John answered gently before pulling over a chair and finally sitting down next to the other. “You can trust me, Laszlo.”

“John I—“ Laszlo cut himself off, left hand tightening against his bad arm. “Your view of me will change.” 

“Kreizler, I assure you that whatever you tell me will not change my opinion of you.” John answered honestly. “God knows how many compromising and embarrassing positions you’ve seen me in.”

“This is different.” The doctor responded firmly, obviously struggling with this decision. 

“Trust me.” John stated matter of factly. 

There was nothing but tension in the room, the space silent aside from the faint echo of horse hooves against cobblestone roads. A clock ticked softly in the background, counting the seconds of uncomfortable silence. 

“John...” Laszlo finally began, eyes trained intensively on the floor. The subconscious tightening of his hands along with his almost pained expression gave hint as to how heavily this conversation was taking a toll on him. “I’m not—“ 

The other looked on with anticipation. 

“There will never be another _woman_.” 

John stared at him with confusion, brow furrowed. “Laszlo, I’m not sure I understand.”

“I do not feel desire towards _women_ , John” Laszlo barked, frustrated that he had to repeat himself. 

“When somebody is as occupied with their career as you are, I’m sure it is normal to not feel—“ 

John froze. He finally comprehended the implications of what the other had said, and it stole the air from his chest. He felt utterly robbed for words, and he stammered in a hopeless attempt to fill the empty space. It all began to come together, to finally make sense, once he really thought about it. All the years of celibacy, even back in college. When he thought about it, he couldn’t remember a time the other had been seen with a woman. 

“But what about Mary?” John inquired with wide eyes, still utterly confused. 

“I don’t quite understand it myself.” Laszlo finally spoke, his voice so uncharacteristically small. “However, Richard Von Krafft-Ebing coined a term in Psychopathia Sexualis, to which the English translation is _Bisexual_.” 

John stared at the other with awe, disbelieving. It all made so much sense. How has he not put it together before?

“Laszlo I...I don’t know what to say.” John stammered, mouth agape. “Who else knows?”

“Nobody.” The doctor responded quickly, head still bowed with embarrassment and shame. “I have never told a living soul.”

John wanted to speak, to actually discuss this with the smaller man. But words seemed to have fled him. He was completely speechless. 

“You have no need to stay in contact with me, John.” Kreizler began, already accepting his defeat. “All I ask is that you do not share this accursed secret with anyone else. I’ve already lost enough.” 

John realized what a mistake he was making by letting the other suffer in his silence. He knew how self deprecating Kreizler was to himself, and that’s exactly what he was allowing to happen. 

“Laszlo, I have no intention of abandoning you.” John answered earnestly, his expression open and inviting. “Not after all we have been through.” 

The doctor finally looked up at the other, the remnants of tears leaving glistening trails along his cheeks. He didn’t need to speak, as the doubt and fear were strikingly blatant in his dark eyes. 

“This is nothing to lose such a meaningful friendship over.” Moore continued, trying to put as much honestly in his words as possible. “Why have you never told me?” 

“I couldn’t, John.” Laszlo answered, his voice wavering and weak. “Everything I posses in life would be stripped of me if this made its way to the masses, hence why I’ve never acted upon it.”

John looked at him, trying to school his expression. He knew Laszlo desired no pity and certainly no lecturing. However, he still struggled to comprehend the situation. He couldn’t believe it had been in front of him this entire time. 

“I can hardly bear it, John.” Laszlo abruptly blurted out, wringing his hands together uncomfortably. “I’m 42 years old, and I cannot help but feel that I have missed out on a significant amount of what life has to offer.”

“I can assure you that it’s never too late to start living.” The artist retorted with a small smile, mindlessly rubbing his palms across his thighs. 

“I could never. I cannot fathom joining with somebody whom I share no prior connection.” The doctor hurriedly dismissed the notion, almost as if the thought distressed him. “If I’ve made it this far without giving in to my desires, then I can surely continue.” 

“Laszlo...” John interrupted. “You still haven’t?”

Laszlo’s silence and uncomfortable expression answered the question well enough. 

“But...you were with Mary?” John pressed with confusion. 

Laszlo hesitated to answer, and it was obvious that the mention of her name only strengthened the grief in him. 

“I was terrified of overstepping my boundaries, especially with her previously being a patient. So it progressed slowly.” He admitted, his lips set in a firm line. “...And I’ve never experienced regret so intensively.”

“It may surprise you...” John responded, glancing down at the intricate Persian carpet beneath his feet. “But what you speak of is more prevalent in society than one would imagine.”

The doctor looked at the other, his brow furrowed with confusion. His longer than normal hair was still a mess, telling John that he hadn’t cut it since Mary had passed. 

“And how would you know that?” Kreizler questioned sharply. 

“Well...” John paused to take a deep breath, resting back against the old mahogany lounge chair. “Because I have had some experiences in that regard.”

The doctors eyes widened in disbelief, and he forced his aching body to sit up taller. “Are you speaking of your time spent at Paresis Hall?”

“God no!” John scoffed harshly at that, hurt that the other would even consider that notion. That place was a cesspool which he was content to never think about again. “I’m speaking of experiences I sought of my own accord.”

“When?” Kreizler questioned, unable to quell his curiosity. 

“Some in our college days.” John answered honestly, gesticulating as he did so. “Some later...after I was deceived by Julia.”

They both fell silent at that, ruminating in their own minds. John couldn’t imagine a life without worldly desires, hence his trips to those hushed establishments he so frequently visited. He felt pity for the other, although he tried his best not to display it. A life so ensnared by image and work sounded unimaginable to him, and it was clear it was taking a toll in Laszlo as well. He couldn’t keep his mind from wandering, from thinking about what his friend did behind closed doors. Did he simply feel no lust? Or perhaps he resorted to rushed fumbling with his good hand, on those days when Stevie and Cyrus where elsewhere. He knew it was wrong to think about such things, but the sensation of knowledge...the feeling of finally, for once, knowing more than the brilliant man beside him, excited him. He recognized the feeling once more, the small voice telling him he would inevitably corrupt the other’s virtue. Was this what it all had been leading up to? He found it hard to comprehend how—

“What is it like?” Laszlo’s strained voice interrupted, the quiet words barely audible. 

John took a moment to think, trying to put into words such an indescribable feeling. “It’s like nothing else on this earth, Laszlo. Like being inebriated with pure pleasure.”

The doctor looked away with embarrassment. His brutal sense of perfectionism made him hate himself for lacking this knowledge, for having to inquire. John swore he could see the sensitive skin of his cheeks and ears flush red...and it would only get worse. 

“I can show you.”

The room fell silent once again. 

John heard the blood rushing in his ears, his heard beating rapidly. He couldn’t believe he had said that, and his chest tightened with anxiety. He risked losing everything. 

“John...” Laszlo began, looking at the other with his so well practiced mask of indifference. “I...”

“You said you cannot be with somebody with whom you have no prior relation.” The artist interrupted, not letting the smaller man have a chance to give the answer he was so terrified of hearing. “So let me show you.”

The two men stared at each other, awaiting for whatever would happen next. Laszlo finally stood up, wincing as his knees cracked in the process. John followed suit, rising up to look his friend in the eye. 

“If we do this...” Laszlo finally began, his voice rough and unsure. “Not a single person can ever find out...not even Sarah.”

“You have my word, Laszlo.”

“...then teach me.” 

John immediately bound forward, capturing the other’s face in his broad hands as he kissed him. Laszlo’s soft lips were frozen against his, his entire body tense and unmoving. He never would have imagined how inexperienced the other truly was, especially given his looks. He softened the kiss, guiding the other’s lips to align with his own. He could feel the rough scrape of the doctor’s beard against his jaw, adding even more sensation. He pulled away briefly and finally allowed the other a moment to take in air he so desperately needed. Laszlo was breathing as if he had ran five blocks, his eyes blown wide and his impossibly dark pupils dilated. John leaned in to kiss him again, only to be met with fear when Laszlo stopped him with a hand on his chest. Was he already backing out?

“John.” Laszlo spoke breathlessly, his voice catching on syllables and consonants as his accent became more apparent. “Let us move upstairs, god forbid somebody—“

John grabbed the doctor by his good arm, impatiently leading him up the stairs. They had already wasted enough time discussing, anymore and either of them might change their minds. Now was the time for action. 

When they reached Kreizler‘s room, John paused for a moment. He looked in horror at the smashed picture frames and broken glass that littered the floor, some of it colored with what was undeniably blood. 

“I’m sorry for the mess.” Laszlo spoke softly, and John could hear that he was already beginning to rebuild his defenses, to close himself off. 

John leaned in and kissed him again, hoping it would be enough to distract him from his suffering. He let his hand gently drift across the nape of the smaller man’s neck, feeling the way he shuddered beneath the touch. 

“You can move your lips against mine.” John whispered softly, kissing along his jawline. 

He moved back to his mouth, smiling at the awkward movement of the smaller man’s lips against his. He quickly pressed his tongue against them, adoring the gasp the doctor released at the sensation. He was continuously one step ahead of Kreizler, chasing his tongue with his own. He gently bit on the alienist’s full lower-lip, delighting in the way his legs nearly buckled beneath him. He gently walked the other backwards until they reached the wall, Laszlo grunting quietly as the back of his head thudded against it. John pushed forward, forcing himself into the smaller man’s personal space. He couldn’t help but to laugh discreetly as he felt the already prominent hardness of the other’s erection against his upper thigh. He continued to kiss him, opening his eyes to see those dark irises trained intensely on his own. 

“Close your eyes, Laszlo.” John whispered gruffly, his voice hoarse with desire. “Relax.”

“But John, I don’t know what I’m doing.” The doctor answered with honest embarrassment, his chest heaving breathlessly. 

“You’re doing just fine.” John comforted the other, letting his fingers run through his dark hair. “Just relax.”

Once he saw that Laszlo had closed his eyes, he leaned in once again. He continued to kiss him, letting his hands roam across his broad chest. He hooked his fingers underneath the smaller man’s suspenders, slowly pushing them off of his well built shoulders. He felt the other tense once again as he began to work on the first button of his collar. 

“Would it make you more comfortable if I undressed first?” John offered up the thought, giving the smaller man another chance to catch his breath. 

The Alienist nodded, bracing himself against the wall with his strong arm. His breath trembled as John made quick work of his vest and shirt, not hesitating to let them drop to the floor beside them. The artist could feel Laszlo’s eyes scanning his upper body, taking in all the details of the refined muscle. He gently took hold of his good arm and placed the palm across his muscular chest. 

“You can touch me, Laszlo.” John spoke softly, feeling the other’s soft fingertips against his pectorals. “You can let yourself explore...give your body what it wants.” 

Laszlo shuddered once more, his cheeks pink with excitement. He gently allowed his fingers to trace mindless shapes into the other’s skin, indexing all of the curves and valleys into his mind. He tried his best to keep up when John moved to kiss him yet again, but he struggled to do so. 

John began to carefully unbutton Kreizler’s shirt, slowly making his way downwards. He heard the smaller man inhale sharply when it finally fell open, holding his breath with discomfort. John began to pull away to finally, after all of these years, glance at his body. However, Laszlo tightly held him close. 

“You will most assuredly be disappointed when you see me.” Laszlo spoke softly, eyes downcast with shame yet again.

John hated to hear him say that. He hated that, even through all that was going on, Laszlo still felt it neccesary to degrade and discredit himself. He was determined to make that stop. 

“Laszlo...you have nothing to be ashamed of.” John tried his best to comfort him as he caressed his neck. 

“I believe you will find that I am dull in comparison with the tender frame of a woman.” The alienist continued bitterly. “And I am of no significant stature amongst men either...especially given the nature of my disability.”

“Laszlo!” John finally spoke up, the lines in his face displaying his frustration. “If I desired the body of a woman, I would not be here!” He reached out and took hold of the other’s face, forcing the smaller man to look at him. “And I assure you...whatever ailments you possess, physical or not, will have no effect on my attraction to you.”

John searched the other’s eyes for any sign that he wasn’t ready. Upon finding none, he gently slid the white, wrinkled undershirt off of Laszlo’s frame. John looked him in the eyes the for another moment before letting his gaze drop lower, finally taking in all of the details his body had to offer. And god, was he _beautiful_. 

Laszlo’s shoulders were wide, his torso settling perfectly against his soft hips. He was nowhere near as muscular as the artist, but certainly not unhealthy either. His body had a comforting fullness to it–the soft strength of a healthy academic–and it sent a jolt up John’s spine. He noticed how Laszlo angled himself away, trying hopelessly to keep his bad arm from his perceptive sight. He felt emotional at fact that Laszlo was trusting him like this, allowing him to bear witness to his so neatly tucked away secrets. He gently put his hand on on the smaller man’s shoulder, using it to turn him so that he could see all of him. But, once again, he froze as he was met with a sickening sight. The doctor’s bad arm made John feel nothing...no pity nor disgust. However, it was what was on it that caused his stomach to twist with sadness. 

Laszlo’s arm was littered with wounds. Some were old, yet others appeared as if they were from mere days ago. Most of the spots where thin skin tented against protruding bone were bruised, a mosaic of blues, purples, and yellows. The few spaces where atrophied muscle remained, such as the bicep and inner forearm, were mottled with scratches and lacerations. Suddenly, the bloody glass on the floor made sense. 

“Laszlo...” John stumbled over his words, certainly not expecting this. “What in God’s name has happened to you?”

The doctor took a moment to gather himself before answering. 

“Drinking often leads me to be resentful towards myself.” He spoke softly, his voice tired. “Especially given the events that have recently transpired.”

John could tell that Kreizler thought this was over, that the night was ruined. However, he didn’t intend to let the alienist linger on it for long. 

“Pleasure can also heal pain.” John thought aloud as he took hold of the smaller man’s hands. “And I fully intend on making you feel better.”

He kissed Laszlo again, and he was amazed to feel him respond. It seemed that, after realizing the artist wasn’t going anywhere, he could finally relax further. John let their mouths dance together, letting his hands drag along the soft dusting of hair on the academic’s chest. He purposefully pressed his knee inwards, and was delighted to feel that the smaller man was still hard. He reached down and began to unfasten his own pants, feeling Laszlo stiffen as he let them drop to the floor. 

“May I?” John inquired kindly, gesturing to the fastenings of Laszlo’s pants. 

The alienist nodded, and John immediately continued. He made quick work of the buttons, carefully helping the other step out of them once they fell to a pool around his ankles. Laszlo toed off the socks he still wore, and John undid his boots in record pace. They stood before one another, dressed in nothing but undergarments. Without hesitation, John hurriedly guided Kreizler to the bed and pushed him back onto it. John looked at the other as he began to undo the buttons to the last remaining bit of his clothing, slowly slipping them off of his narrow hips. He couldn’t contain the grin that spread on his lips when he looked back up to Laszlo. The smaller man’s eyes were wide with awe, his cheeks _still_ flushed intensely. 

“Your turn.” He spoke with a small laugh, admiring how debauched the doctor already appeared. 

Laszlo began to fumble with the buttons on his garment. His good hand trembled from the adrenaline that rushed through his veins, making it even harder for him to successfully undress. He glanced to John with a pleading look, and the taller man didn’t hesitate to help him. The artist finally pulled them down his muscular legs, gasping as Laszlo’s erection sprung up to rest against his abdomen. He was _huge_.

“I must say...” John spoke with awe. “I am thoroughly impressed.” 

Laszlo’s face felt as if it was on fire, his ears turning a bright red. He glanced away with embarrassment, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm himself. Before he had a chance to react, John was above him. He pushed him down onto his back, immediately straddling his legs that rested over the edge of the bed. The larger man leaned down to kiss him yet again, and the feeling of his cock being pressed against his own stomach made Laszlo gasp. 

“Now tell me...” John whispered into the doctor’s ear, his voice rough with barely constrained desire. “What is it that you want?”

“Everything.” Laszlo responded hurriedly, _desperately_. His accent was more apparent than John had ever heard before, and he figured it was something to do with a mental overload. “I want you to show me it all.”

John didn’t hesitate to get started, helping Laszlo to position himself up against the headboard. He wasted no time in slinking down onto his stomach, face mere inches from Kreizler’s straining erection. He slowly moved to put his mouth over it, his own cock growing harder at the absolutely broken sound the alienist emitted. He barely moved, letting his tongue toy with the head for a few moments. Laszlo jolted as if he had been electrocuted when John pressed down, letting him slip deep into his throat. The smaller man’s good hand desperately searched for hold, eventually settling to press fingerprints into John’s shoulder. The artist hummed around the other’s length, and Laszlo emitted a stuttering breath as he did so. 

“John...Gott im Himmel...” Laszlo gasped out, his brain unable to translate properly. “I’m going to...”

John pulled off with a lewd pop. The sight of him wiping a slick trail of precum off of his chin made Laszlo’s erection twitch one again, and the larger man smiled at that. John couldn’t believe how quickly he had gotten him to his peak, although it did make sense. His throat ached even after that brief period, as it had been quite a significant amount of time since he had last done that. And in addition, Kreizler wasn’t exactly small. 

“Since you need a minute to cool off...” John began with a slightly hoarse, albeit humored, voice. “Why don’t you try it?” 

Laszlo stammered with surprise, but eventually settled on a rapid nod. With how turned on he was, John guessed he could get him to do anything at that moment. Maybe a different time... 

Laszlo and John curtly traded position, but it quickly became apparent it wasn’t going to work. The alienist couldn’t put his weight on his bad arm as support. John saw frustration quickly appear on his face, so he decided to stop the issue before it had barely started. 

“Kneel on the floor.” John firmly suggested, pointing to where he meant. 

Laszlo didn’t argue, letting himself drop gracelessly to his knees as John sat on the edge of the bed. The artist certainly wasn’t small either, and Kreizler felt intimidated from this position. 

“What do I do?” He asked with shame, so unsure of how to start something of this nature. 

“You’ll find it easier than expected.” John responded calmly, so mundane he could have been teaching a drawing student. “Just be careful of your teeth.”

Laszlo took a deep breath and cautiously leaned forward, bracing his good arm against his thigh. He took the tip into his mouth, letting himself get accustomed to the sensation. He slowly pushed down further, his eyes watering; and without warning, he gagged harshly. An ashamed blush spread across his face as he pulled up, a trail of saliva and precum momentarily stretching from his lips to the other’s length. 

“That takes practice.” John warned the other, watching him struggle below. “Try using your hand where your mouth can’t reach.”

Laszlo took another deep breath, tentatively wrapping his good hand around the thick base of the other’s length. He once again took him into his mouth, this time cautious not to go too far. It took him a minute to find a rhythm between his mouth and hand, but he eventually managed. He opened his eyes and quickly stole a glance at the other, embarrassed to see the other watching him with a pleasured expression. 

“That is so good, Laszlo.” John spoke with a pressed groan, his fingers tightening in the bed sheets. 

He couldn’t believe this was happening. Laszlo Kreizler, world renowned alienist and academic, had his cock halfway down his throat. The man he had spent so much time trying to decipher and discover was now pleasing him with his mouth. Those impossibly dark eyes occasionally flicked up at him, although only for fleeting moments. It all made so much sense, and yet was so surreal. He could barely fathom how one could shoulder the burden of this secret without engaging in any sort of lecherous behavior. 

Suddenly and without warning, Laszlo swallowed around him. The sudden tightening of his throat muscles made John groan, arousal shooting sharply through his abdomen. Laszlo noticed his reaction and immediately did it again, forcing himself to swallow. John had no option but to pull the other off of him, lest he reach his release much too early. He coiled a large hand into his erratic hair, forcing him off. Laszlo looked up at him with a horrified expression, expecting the larger man to admonish him. However, there was nothing bad to be said. 

“Laszlo...” John gasped heavily, bracing his hands behind him. “That is dangerously good.”

They took a moment to collect themselves, John deciding how to continue. He wanted his friend to experience all the pleasure that he could possibly offer, yet he didn’t want to push him past his boundaries. 

“How would you like to continue?” He finally asked, decided it was best to be on the same page. 

Laszlo glanced up at him from his kneeling position, struggling to make eye contact. He wrung his hands together with discomfort before answering. 

“I have heard of a secretory gland that men possess.” He spoke quietly, almost as if he was afraid someone would overhear. Even now, he was unable to shed the clinical nature from his words. “And what pleasure it can offer under the correct circumstances.”

“Laszlo...” John stammered with widening eyes, unsure if he was misreading the other’s words. “Are you saying that—“

“I would like you to take me.”

The words were spoken so unexpectedly, like punch to the face. John had been hoping that was going to be the answer, but part of him him still hadn’t expected it. He had wondered idly whether or not Laszlo would allow himself to be put in such a position. He expected that the other would insist on being on top, considering his controlling nature. But perhaps that was precisely why he wanted this...to finally allow himself to give up control. Arousal burned hotly in John’s groin at he thought of it, imaging all of the sounds he would pull out of the smaller man. He leaned down and offered a hand to the other, helping him rise to his feet. He could see the vulnerability on the alienist’s eyes, his open expression. He stood up and placed a tender kiss against his lips, delighting at the feeling of his warm breath against his own mouth. He guided Laszlo to the head of the bed, easing him onto his back. He didn’t hesitate to climb above him, feeling the doctor gasp against his mouth when their erections were pressed together. John ground against him, letting his calloused drawers hands slide across the other’s quivering muscles. His skin was unbelievably smooth, and John couldn’t help but to compare him to a woman. It had been so long since he had slept with a man, and he had honestly forgotten how nice it was. Laszlo was muscled, giving the artist more contours to caress. However, he was soft in all of the right places, possessing a certain femininity to his body. He could feel the way Kreizler trembled beneath him, so uncharacteristically overwhelmed. Taking a risk, he reached down and gently took hold of the smaller man’s weak arm, feeling him immediately tense up. John touched the ruined skin with reverence, looking down into Laszlo’s fearful, pleading eyes. He leaned down and placed gentle kisses along the withered muscle, careful not to touch any of the fresh lacerations. 

“You have nothing to be ashamed about.” John whispered against his freckled skin, hating how rigid Laszlo was against him. 

He reached down and grabbed hold of the smaller man’s length, trying his best to distract him from his anxieties. He stroked him fervently, astounded at how beautifully the alienist’s back arched at the sensation. 

“Please, John.” Laszlo begged, his good hand tightening around the other’s waist. 

John couldn’t believe that the other was actually _begging_ him, so goddamn desperate. He rose up to rest on his knees, straddling the other’s waist. He saw the small puddle of precum that glistened against the other’s abdomen, and he couldn’t contain the grin that spread across his lips. He could tell the other was still teetering so close to the edge...like he was on a hairpin trigger. 

“We will need some sort of salve or oil....” John tentatively brought the subject up to the other, figuring this might put a hold on their actions. However, much to his surprise, Laszlo simply pointed at the dark, wooden nightstand beside the bed. 

John looked at him with surprise, reaching over his prostrate frame towards the drawer. He rummaged around until he felt a small, circular jar, settling himself back above the alienist. He opened the small container, inspecting the slightly opaque and viscous contents. He looked at the other with a questioning expression.

“I have had moments in which I felt the need to relieve my own desires.” Laszlo admitted shyly, the muscles in his jaw standing out as he clenched it. 

“The mental image that accompanies that is thoroughly exciting.” John spoke honestly, and Laszlo blushed yet again. 

He scooped two fingers into the jar, feeling the thick, oily substance between his fingers. He set the container onto the bed beside him, looking back up to the other. 

“It will be easiest if you face away from me.” John informed the other, watching him process the situation. “On all fours.”

“I’m afraid I will not be able to support myself.” Laszlo responded, gesturing to his bad arm with a disappointed, sideways nod of his head. 

“Ahh...I’m sorry, Laszlo.” John admonished himself for not thinking of that beforehand. He hated to put the other in a situation where his disability prevented him from doing something. 

“And besides,” Laszlo interrupted, pulling the other from his thoughts. “I would prefer to be able to see what is occurring.”

John nodded in understanding, moving off of the other’s waist. He gently guided Laszlo’s legs open, watching the muscles in his abdomen tense at the sudden exposure. 

“Try your best to relax.” John instructed the smaller man, rubbing his thigh comfortingly. “The calmer you are, the easier it will be.”

Laszlo nodded curtly, taking a deep breath. John settled between his legs, still rubbing calming circles against his skin. He slowly let his fingers drop to the other’s entrance, and he felt him jump at the sensation. He gently began to push a wide finger in, watching as Laszlo’s face contorted with a concentrated scowl. He gave him a minute to get accustomed to the feeling before he began to slowly move, letting his finger slide in and out. He looked up when the other emitted a stuttering breath, his lips parted and eyes shut tightly. 

“Are you doing ok?” He inquired with concern, not wanting to harm the smaller man. 

“Yes.” Laszlo answered curtly, his voice strained with effort. “It feels...odd.” 

John continued to work him open, keeping a careful eye on the other’s expression. After a few minutes with no qualms, he made the decision to add another finger. He slowly pushed in, Laszlo taking a hissing inhale at the stretch. 

“Tell me if it’s too much.” John informed the alienist, worried that he would be too stubborn to voice his pain. 

“I’m fine.” He shot back, breathing heavily. “Please continue.”

John did as asked and continued to work his fingers into him, trying his best to force the tension out of him. After what seemed like an eternity, he felt Laszlo pushing back against him. He cautiously worked the tip of a third finger in, and the smaller man emitted a hushed moan at the feeling. It wasn’t long before he was truly working into him, his own length hard at the image of the disheveled man beneath him. He pulled his fingers out quickly and without warning, and the other exhaled sharply at the sudden emptiness. He reached back down for the silver tin once again, scooping out a large portion of the lubricant onto his index and middle fingers. He coated his already aching length with the slick as Laszlo looked on with desire. He hooked his muscular arms under the other’s thighs, angling him upwards so that his pelvis sat against his own groin. He looked into Kreizler’s eyes, searching, and they shared a nod of agreement. 

John took hold of his length, lined himself up, and finally began to guide himself into the other. Laszlo immediately hissed in pain, his legs subconsciously tightening around the larger man’s lower back. John moved as slowly as possible, inching forward in tiny increments. After what seemed like an eternity, he finally found himself all of the way in, his lower abdomen flush against the smaller man’s soft skin. He glanced down upon the other’s pained visage, his eyes tightly closed. He leaned over the other’s frame and placed a gentle kiss upon his scowling lips. 

“Breathe, Laszlo.” He begged the other, wanting him to finally be able to feel pleasure. “Please.”

The alienist opened his eyes and glanced up, the faint beginnings of tears gathering on his long eyelashes. He gave himself over entirely to their kisses, trying to focus on anything other than the uncomfortable fullness. However, he felt desire once again spark deep in his stomach when the other grabbed hold of his cock. 

“That’s it.” John encouraged the other as he stroked him, letting his broad thumb slip across the sensitive head. 

It took every single ounce of restraint John had to not simply thrust into him. The feeling of Laszlo so tight around him was intoxicating, and it nearly made him dizzy. Once he saw the other’s expression soften from pain into desire, he allowed himself to move. He slowly pulled out before pressing back in with the utmost caution. Upon hearing no pained noises from the smaller man, he repeated the movement, and it wasn’t long before he was truly fucking into him. 

John rose off of the other’s chest, grabbing hold of his hips. He pulled nearly all of the way out before sliding back in with force, head thrown back in pleasure at the unbelievable tightness. He could see the smaller man’s chest surging with breath, his good arm slung carelessly above his head. He reached out and let his hand settle on Laszlo’s pectoral. He blindly felt around and grabbed hold of the other’s erect nipple once he found it. He gave a decent pinch, and the alienist bucked beneath him. He repeated the action with a dirty grin, and this time Laszlo _moaned_. The sound was so uncontrolled, his voice catching on the high note, that John buckled over in arousal. He was completely undoing the man beneath him, breaking down the walls of defense and independence he had spent years building. His inexperienced body was so responsive to each and every touch, and John recalled when he himself was like that. He couldn’t believe that, even at his age, Laszlo could still react as he was. John felt no guilt in dirtying the smaller man’s clean moral slate. In fact, he felt nothing but pure, unadulterated lust. 

“Gott verdammt, bitte! Ich brauch’ mehr!” Laszlo cried out with a voice hoarse from desire. He could barely think straight, never mind keep his native language repressed. “Please, more...” 

John continued to thrust into him, sweat beading along his hairline as he did so. He was sure he was going to leave bruises along Laszlo’s thighs, but he couldn’t care less. In fact, the thought of marking him aroused him even more, so he reached down and firmly bit into the doctor’s good shoulder. He sucked on the tender skin, hearing him moan at the feeling. Without any form of warning he leaned forward and drove into the other with force, determined to hit his sweet spot. And when he did...he certainly knew. 

Laszlo arched his back so sharply, nothing short of a scream forcing itself from his throat. He looked to John with wide, shocked eyes, disbelieving that anything on this mortal earth could feel that good. The nails of his good hand dug quickly reddening lines into the artist’s broad back, the other hand tightening weakly against the blanket beneath him. The scarred muscles in his bad arm ached and throbbed from the helpless way he clenched them, but the pain was so insignificant when compared to everything else that he barely noticed it. He couldn’t believe that this was happening, and yet he could think of nothing else. The sensations overloaded him in every way possible, his endlessly calculating mind _finally_ falling silent. Now he understood why John so often sought the company of strangers...why places like Paresis Hall existed in the first place. The noises he emitted were so uncharacteristically uncontrolled, and yet he made no effort to stop them. He found he could barely catch his breath, and his fingers were beginning to go numb from the lack of oxygen. His messy hair stuck to his forehead as his head thrashed back and forth, and he pushed down against the other’s length with shameless wanton. John thrust against his prostate once more, and that feeling paired with the unrelenting fullness nearly pushed him over the edge. 

“John, ich werde jetzt...” He began with a trembling tone, his body covered with a thin veil of sweat. “Ich bin ganz fast da—I’m close”

“Let go, Laszlo.” The larger man told him, his voice strained with the effort he was putting in. “Just let it happen.”

John continued to fuck him, his breath hot and damp in the cool air of the room. He couldn’t believe that Laszlo was near his precipice without even being touched, as he was never able to achieve that himself. He reached down and hurriedly began to stroke the other’s rigid cock, figured it could only aid in making him feel better. 

Upon feeing the tight grip of John’s hand, Laszlo finally reached his climax. He cried out with a breathy moan, his eyes rolling back and his abdomen tightening. He pulled John in closer with his legs, his nails now drawing blood from the larger man’s back. He spent himself with seemingly endless streams, and his release painted his chest and navel like a mosaic. He laid boneless on the bed as John offered a few more thrusts into his oversensitive body. One last spasm had him tightening up impossibly around John’s length, and the larger man groaned loudly as he finally spilled within him. Laszlo could feel the other’s hot spend filling him, and it caused his length to twitch one last time, his head dropping exhaustedly to the pillow beneath. 

The room was silent save for the sound of their heavy breathing, the air around them filled with the unmistakable scent of sex. After a long moment of recuperation, John began to pull out. They both winced at the sensation, overstimulation running rampant in its course. When John finally freed himself, Laszlo could feel his release slowly dripping out of him. He buried his face into the pillow with embarrassment. 

John got up from the bed and cautiously traversed the maze of glass that littered the carpet. He grabbed a small facecloth that sat neatly folded in Laszlo’s dresser before returning back to the bed. He made quick work of cleaning both of them off, noticing how the smaller man once again tried to keep his bad arm out of sight. Those walls were already being rebuilt. 

John threw himself back into the bed with a heavy sigh, letting his head fall to the side to take in all of the details of the other. He didn’t know when, or if, he would see Laszlo like this again. 

“So?” John asked nervously, completely unsure of what the alienist was currently thinking. 

Laszlo remained silent for a long moment, making John fear the worst. 

“You were right in one regard...” Kreizler began to speak, his voice small and rough. “It is truly unlike anything else.”

John snickered softly at that. 

“I found that I was granted a rare chance to stop thinking, which I haven’t been able to accomplish for months.” Laszlo continued, eyes trained unfocused in the ceiling above. “And I am grateful for that...grateful for you.”

John propped himself up on his elbow, giving the smaller no option but to look at him. Laszlo’s eyes met his own, and he was relieved to see the doctor didn’t avoid eye contact this time. 

“You can call upon me anytime, should the desire arise.” John offered, knowing it would certainly have to be the other’s decision. 

“I feel as if it would be unfair to promise you anything right now, given the severity in which my grief consumes me.” Laszlo answered honestly, his good hand resting idly across his abdomen. 

John’s stomach dropped at the decline.

“However...” Laszlo continued, his face belying a certain vulnerability which he seemed to be trying to hide. “I can’t shake the feeling that this has the potential to blossom into something much more than the occasional soirée...and I would very much like to follow up on that feeling, should you agree.” 

John smiled at that, released a breath he didn’t realize he had been withholding. 

“I found tonight to be very enlightening.” The alienist continued as he mindlessly stroked his beard. “Perhaps even liberating.” 

“Are you prepared to be forced to love in secrecy?” John questioned openly, not wanting the other to rush into any decisions. 

“After tonight, I feel that having to love in secrecy is better than feeling no love at all.” Laszlo responded with a soft voice, turning onto his side to face the other. 

“Then let us explore in secrecy.” John said with a small smile and soft eyes. 

Laszlo smiled back, shifting closer to let his head rest upon the larger man’s wide chest. John was relieved to feel the alienist let his weaker arm rest upon his stomach, an obvious display of comfort. 

John remembered what he had said before: that grief would eventually subside. 

John would wait for Laszlo, no matter how long it took.  
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**Author's Note:**

> German translations:
> 
> Gott im Himmel=God in heaven 
> 
> GOTT verdammt, bitte! Ich brauch’ mehr!=Goddamn it, please! I need more!
> 
> Ich werde jetzt...=I’m going to...
> 
> Ich bin ganz fast da=I’m almost there
> 
> Please feel free to leave constructive criticism. And pleaaaaaaase leave kudos and comments if you enjoyed!! Thanks for reading!


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